Drowning In a Dry Lake Bed
by Blubelles12345x
Summary: He is the hardest person to love, and an even harder person to be loved by. He's irrational, possessive and controlling; He is addictive, enticing, irresistible. I adore him with my very being, yet I hate him more than words can say. We are toxic, disastrous, doomed. But the attraction between us is electric, the strongest thing I've ever felt./ Rated M, OOC, Canon couples.
1. Prologue

**AN: Hey guys! Long time no see right? I'm so sorry for the absence, but family and school issues, along with a move just made everything a bit too difficult to concentrate on. However, my return to writing is long overdue! You may notice I've found a new couple to obsessively write about, but that doesn't mean my other fics will be neglected; I will be returning to them in one way or another!**

 **Give this prologue and the first chapter a try, I'm working on a new angle here and its challenging. As ever leave a review and let me know what you think! Updated will be regular, I'll let you all know my schedule in the next couple of chapters, so stay tuned! Much Love, Elle xx**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own anything to do with Once Upon A Time etc. However the plot and writing development of this story is entirely my own. Enjoy!**

 **Prologue**

Its intoxicating, his very presence. He can make you laugh with the hint of a smile, make you snarl with the raise of an eyebrow, he's godlike. It's not an obsession, not at all. It's just an undeniable, unforgiving pull; an unstoppable force. It's an attraction you can only feel with him. The way his eyes can pull the very life from your soul with a single green flecked smoulder. His lips can create a symphony of insulting remarks in one instant and make you feel like the most adored woman on the earth in the next. He is the hardest person to love, and an even harder person to be loved by. He's irrational, possessive and controlling; He is addictive, enticing, irresistible. I adore him with my very being, yet I hate him more than words can say. We are toxic, disastrous, doomed. But the attraction between us is electric, the strongest thing I've ever felt. It surpasses all logic and reason, but I guess that's what makes it the most beautiful, deadly form of lust.

Our relationship, a tasteless label but a label nonetheless, is one that surpasses years of turmoil, anger, lust, horror and bliss. I suppose it would be a bit confusing if I were to tell you all this now, you do not know the past, you don't even really know the present; Heaven knows if either of us could even begin to understand it. But I might as well try to muddle through it, sort it into a simpler, smaller pile of unanswered questions. So, I'll start from the beginning.


	2. Chapter 1

**AN: Chapter warning! Contains sexual material and may have trigger warnings for abuse and/or violent behaviour. Please click away if necessary. Not suitable for anyone aged 18 or under. Enjoy!**

 **Disclaimer: OUAT ain't mine y'all, yummy Killian goodness and all. Only this story is mine... unfortunately.**

 **Chapter One**

The cherry blossoms were beginning to bloom again; it was spring. Spring meant the lake, and that meant the dingy, rotten old cabin that lay in a marshy expanse of what some may call a forest. In reality, it was an acre plot of wilting plants and flooded fields. Going there wasn't the issue, I actually didn't mind the fresh air, the soft breeze drifting across my undoubtedly frizzy blonde mess of hair. No, it was him. He was the problem.

That boy, the one with the strange, obsidian coloured hair and eyes that looked like burning emeralds, he made me feel, not quite myself.

So as I walked up the muddy, foot trodden path, counting the 27 inevitable steps that would bring me to the faded, splintered steps of the cabin porch, I glanced over to the window of the facing cabin. It was the same build as the one I would be spending the summer in, yet it was nothing like it. Clean, polished oak panels covered the much larger porch that wrapped around the white washed home. Hanging baskets overflowing with flowers in every colour under the spectrum were carefully hung at regular intervals along the porch rail, the windows were framed by ornate shutters, carefully glossed and gleaming white.

These two cabins were evident representations of the two families that resided within. One was flawless, dream-like, yet the other was flawed and nightmarish.

Snapping out of my day-dream, I looked over to the large tree that stood tall next to the cabin, only to find those confusing, unsettling eyes boring into my very soul.

Killian Jones, a prime example of everything that is wrong, yet somehow, very right. He was tall, much taller than my laughable 5-foot stature. He was well-built, that is to say he was lean and muscular, yet not so much as to imply he lived on a weight bench. Killian possessed that natural allure that made every girl want him, and every guy want to be him. He was very, very intoxicating.

Looking him over, pulled into his trance as usual, he began to smirk. That ever present crooked smile that always meant trouble.

"Something wrong, sweet thing?" He drawled, his voice like velvet ribbons caressing my skin.

"No, just confused. Are you staying here for the summer?" I asked, both excited and terrified to hear his answer.

With that, he chuckled. It was a strong, evil laugh that promised danger and something much more exhilarating. Pushing himself away from the large trunk against his broad shoulders, he walked slowly over to me, his enchanting gaze never dropping from my own.

Grasping my small, narrow waist in his large yet slender hands, he pulled me sharply into his arms. Bending down, with that ever familiar smirk, he whispered:

"Why of course, and I think this is going to be the most interesting summer of all, little Swan."

Closing my eyes, I felt a wave of some unknown emotion in the pit of my stomach, exhilarating and terrifying at the same time. I was scared of this boy, this man who was not quite 18. I steadied my uneven breath, gathering my thoughts that were slipping into an unknown, unexplored maze of… well I don't know what exactly.

"Emma, get inside now! You need to move your bags from the porch this instant!" Yelled a strong, intimidating voice.

Breaking from the trance only he can put me in, I opened my eyes to find myself standing alone in the narrow dirt road between the two cabins. Looking over to find the source of the voice, I found my father standing in the chipped doorway, his strong arms crossed in front of his broad chest; oh no.

"Sorry Daddy, I'll be right in." I called, becoming increasingly aware of the twitch in his left eyebrow that undoubtedly meant one thing, trouble.

Gritting his teeth, my intimidating monster of a Dad glared at me, pointing at his cracked, old leather watch before sharply turning and storming into the house.

Suddenly feeling very alone, I glanced sheepishly around at the barren surroundings. Grasping the silver charm bracelet at my wrist, I gathered my erratic thoughts before slowly walking those 27 steps that led me into hell. Little did I know that it was only going to get worse. An interesting summer this was going to be indeed.

* * *

Setting my small suitcase and worn backpack at the foot of my dust covered bed, I sighed as I gazed around the room I would spend the next two months in. It was nice enough really, if you overlooked the fading yellow wallpaper and moth bitten lilac curtains that hung on a crooked brass pole. The only thing I liked about this room was the large window seat underneath a beautiful, if old, bay window on the far wall. It overlooked the front of the cabin, and therefore the idyllic house that stood proudly facing.

Walking around my queen size bed, I gathered the sheets that were filled with holes and dirt from staying there all year and pulled them from the mattress. I carried them over to the small white wicker basket where I kept my laundry, which lay next to the second hand, damaged white dresser at the back of the room, next to the door that led to our small hallway.

I debated whether to just go back downstairs and face my father, who was currently lecturing my feeble mother about taking too long to dust the living room furniture, only so that he could sit himself down on the faded leather recliner and kick back with a beer; I decided to instead clean the room and pack away my things, scarce as they were.

Opening the latch on the brittle frame, I swung open the large window to let some clean air in. It was a particularly humid day today, so when the hot air hit me I gasped, stepping back and looking up at the clouds of dust specks floating above my head. Raising my hand tentatively, I disturbed the air around me, causing the specks to dance and jump, looking like tiny shining orbs in the sun's heady gaze.

A familiar prickling feeling caused the hair on the nape of my neck to rise, causing me to look up and lock eyes with the familiar demon across the road. Killian gazed almost predatorily over at me, his eyes raking hungrily over my skinny frame and my long wavy blonde hair.

Gasping slightly, I stepped forward, hastily grabbing the flimsy curtain and pulling it over the glass that exposed me to him. Breathing a sigh of relief when he left my line of sight, I turned and walked over to the small closet in the corner of my room, gathering pale pink bed linen lying at the bottom of the empty space. Making up the covers on my creaky bed, I thought over my interaction with Killian. It was peculiar, inexplicable. I hardly knew the boy, he was simply a mere acquaintance, a mysterious figure who sat one row behind and two seat across from me in my literature class at school back home. I knew his family owned a cabin in the same plot of land as my father, however I didn't plan on ever seeing him here, I never had in the summers I spent here with my parents before.

But now, seeing him here, it brings me a surge of some unknown feeling, almost like hope in a way. Another family to be around, more people to fill the gaps between sleep and the inevitable punishments I will receive from my far too strict Father. Yes, this will be an interesting summer, if I will it to be.

I decided to venture down to the small living room, now immaculate as one can expect of a log cabin in the country. My mother sits at the small love seat by the window, her small feet tucked under her legs as she reads from a very familiar, very worn and old book. Ever the romantic, she taught me from a very young age how to appreciate literature, 'Emma' by Jane Austen being the very first book that she read to me. This was that same book, with its red velvet ribbon tucked into the spine, cracked and faded from years of loving use. Her hands caressed the yellowed pages as if it were a bible, religiously. She worshipped the book, it was the first thing she bought when she moved to rainy Seattle, before she met my father. Mother would always tell me how Austen's careful words and endless hidden meanings caused her to fall in love with the very idea of love. She was an old soul and to be completely honest, deserved a true prince charming, someone much more noble than my Father.

Ah, him. Joseph Anthony Swan. A stern man, a true man he would say. The kind that goes fishing every Sunday before church and always has a beer can in hand while off duty. He's a police officer by day, bully by night. That's harsh? You wouldn't think that if you saw how he was. The cruel things he says when the football match loses his interest, the cold glares he gives when you trip on the rug. He is terrifying, intimidating and powerful. I don't know why he is so horrible to me, part of me believes that if I was a boy he would be a lot nicer, part of me thinks he would be worse.

Yet there he sits, content in his little world of hunting, working, drinking his life away. The same cabin every summer, the same brand of whiskey on Friday evenings when he thinks no one's watching, the same cigar that is locked away in his desk for that 'special occasion'.

I don't know when I began to resent him, I think it was the first time he slapped me for 'having a stupid face' or when he spanked me with a belt for breaking his 'good' scotch glass. I live in a constant state of unease around him, never knowing when he'll snap and punish me for something yet again.

That's why I steer clear of him when possible, always do my chores on time and stay away from home as long as I possibly can without breaking my curfew. Even at 17 years old I still have a 9pm curfew, which includes no sleepovers and no trips, apart from our annual summer vacation to Death Valley, aka here.

"Em, what are you sulking about now?" My father croaks, his voice straining after one too many glasses of cheap whiskey.

Glancing over at his pitiful form, his stained white wife beater and faded jeans, I can't help but sigh at the pathetic existence that is my life.

"Nothing Daddy, I was just wondering if I could go down to the lake a while?" I asked, desperately trying not to show how eager I was to get out of this suffocating little cabin; he'd pounce on the chance to upset me in an instant.

"Hmm, you aren't going over to the Jones' place are you? I saw you with that little twig of a boy before." He raised an eyebrow suspiciously, looking me over with distaste. I gulped nervously, of course I wasn't even thinking about that! I mean, I didn't even know them for crying out loud! But my Father was in a constant state of paranoia since I turned 14, suddenly every male was a threat and I had to be watched at all times, he didn't want people gossiping about the policeman's 'slutty' daughter.

"No, of course not daddy, I just wanted to take some pictures before the sun goes down, it's nearly dinnertime after all. I won't be long I promise."

He looked me up and down, likely running his mental lie detector on me. Seeing as I was telling the honest to God truth, he eventually grunted his consent and I skipped down the porch, camera in hand and almost sprinted my way through the small forest behind the cabin.

* * *

Reaching the sparse tree line, I stopped to take in the scene before me. The lake was small, but perfectly round. It was surrounded by little clusters of wildflowers and water lilies. Although it was not well tended to and slightly overgrown, it was my favourite place to be during the summers here. It was beautiful, birds chirping and the cool water glistening in the orange haze of the setting sun, it was like my own little piece of heaven.

Setting to work, I turned on my small handheld camera and began taking some shots of a bluebird sitting in its nest, up in a tree to my right. Photography is my passion. I'm not necessarily very good at it, but something about being able to capture little things about the world that everyone else overlooks is so… freeing to me.

I lost track of time for a while, never shifting me gaze from my chipped lens to notice the sky darkening. Therefore, when a cool hand grasped my arm lightly I almost jumped out of my skin.

"What the hell!" I squealed, dropping my already battered camera onto the muddy ground and jumping away from the intruder.

"Well, well love. Someone's a bit jumpy. Scared all alone in the dark?" A velvety voice drawled, sending shivers down my spine.

Suddenly feeling very self-conscious, I wrapped my red hoodie closer around my small chest, noticing how those alluring green eyes seemed to rake unapologetically up and down my small frame. Killian smirked, stepping from beneath the tree next to me and into my line of sight.

"Now now, I'm not the big bad wolf am I? But I do love this colour on you." He continued, fingering the worn cotton of my burgundy jacket.

Pulling away from his grasp, I looked up and met his steely gaze. His face was unreadable, almost like he was bored.

"What do you want Jones? I was busy if you couldn't tell." I replied, brushing off his compliment and desperately trying to hide the waver in my voice.

"Well, little swan, I just thought you might want some company, seeing as there are no other normal people around, just our parents." He remarked, raising his eyebrow as if he were surprised that I dared to sass him.

"There's nothing normal about you Jones." I stated, suddenly very calm and almost, dare I say, comfortable in his presence.

He smiled, a genuine, almost content smile. It was odd to say the least. The handful of exchanges we had up until this point had been confusing at best. So it was a new feeling that overcame me when he gestured me to sit on an overturned log with him by the lake edge.

"So Swan, seeing as we hardly know anything at all about each other; tell me something about yourself." Killian said, his eyes twinkling in the now purple haze of the sun.

I was stunned. Killian Jones was here, at my lake, asking me to tell him something about myself. 'Well, I'll be damned' I thought to myself.

"Oh, I'm not sure what you'd want to know." I said, suddenly feeling very vulnerable as if on display for the demon beside me to unravel.

"Everything." He spoke calmly, as if the words just rolled of his smooth tongue without any hesitation.

Turning to face me, Killian reached up and brushed a stray lock of hair behind my ear, making that same bubbling fire begin to brew in the bottom of my belly. We locked eyes and suddenly a surge of heat exploded between us. It was electric, like some sort of crackling energy that fizzed and burned in every nerve in my body.

I gasped, staring uncomprehendingly into his hypnotic eyes, confused as to what this fire was raging inside of my core. Chuckling quietly, he dropped his hand back into his lap.

"Well, I'll be damned." He laughed, now positively glowing in the glimpse of moonlight that rose over the low clouds in the twilight sky.

Trembling slightly, I looked down, as too try to extinguish the flames in my stomach by breaking his gaze.

Looking around, it was as if Killian had realised that we had sat here for some time. With that in mind, He stood slowly, wiping the dirt from his otherwise pristine black jeans. Reaching out a hand, he pulled my up roughly, not realising his own strength.

Falling slightly, I ended up crashing into his arms. Looking up at him, I laughed, causing us both to shiver slightly as that electric current passed through us again.

"What is this?" I whispered, trembling in this strange boy's arms.

Looking down at me with an unreadable expression, Killian's emerald orbs flickered with a number of emotions as he thought about something hard.

"Honestly, I'm not sure. I've never felt that before." He spoke softly, a completely different man to the one that taunted me earlier. His hold on me didn't weaken, yet his hands trailed down my back slowly to rest at my waist. Sighing, I leant into him slightly, overcome with a strange sense of belonging that I had never felt with anyone before.

"Neither have I. Killian, what does this mean?" I asked, the tremor in my voice now painfully obvious.

There was a long silence as we stood, locked in an electric embrace and hypnotized by each other's gaze. A sharp screech of a nearby bird caused us to jump apart, the energy cut off by our scare.

Suddenly pulled out of the trance, I looked around, suddenly realising that I had more than likely broke my curfew, as the moon was now high in the dark, inky sky.

"Um, I've got to go Jones." I spoke, backing away towards the clearing, and towards the cabin. "I'll see you around okay?"

Looking like he was going to say something, Killian stepped toward me, his pale skin and dark hair striking in the moonlight. Feeling uneasy about the angry Father undoubtedly waiting to scold me at home, I forgot about the current crackling between us, and turned and sprinted toward the light in the distance.

Little did I realise that the striking boy with haunting eyes was holding my camera, staring thoughtfully at my retreating figure.

* * *

Jogging lightly up the dirt path, I stopped suddenly when I came into the view of the house. Sitting on a wicker chair by the front door was my father, leather belt resting across his knees.

My breath hitching slightly, I close my eyes and will myself not to get upset already, 'Don't cry Emma,' A little voice inside me whispered, 'You know it only makes it worse.'

Calming myself, I opened my eyes and looked up at the large me in front of me, his eyes agleam with fury. He looked like the devil, strong, powerful and with no remorse for what was about to happen.

"Where the fuck have you been, you little bitch?" He slurred, undoubtedly very drunk guessing by the small pyramid of aluminium cans resting at his feet.

"I'm sorry Daddy, I lost track of time. I was taking pictures and forgot how long I had been there." I mumbled apologetically. It wasn't a lie technically, but I certainly wasn't going to mention the devastatingly handsome man whose arms I could still feel around my waist to my drunk and irrational Father.

"Like heck you did, you don't even have your camera with you, you lying little twit. You've been off with that punk from across the street haven't you? You are such a little whore, do you know that?" He spoke, his eyes burning and lips trembling.

Too afraid to retaliate, I only hung my head in defeat. Arguing my case just meant a longer punishment, and that meant a more painful aftermath too.

"Now, you get your whore ass into this house and clean up dinner. I was going to whip you for being so disobedient but I think having you clean and go to your room with no dinner is more suitable for tonight. After all, you're only ten minutes after the curfew."

I sighed in relief as he turned away from me. He was never this forgiving however, so I shouldn't have been so shocked when the next venomous words fell from his poisonous lips.

"Oh and Emma? If I ever see that boy talking to you ever again, I kill him."

My father grinned down at me, fully aware that I believed every word he told me. He was a cop after all, he could kill a man and hide the evidence.

Gasping slightly, I ran past the demonic figure and went to the kitchen, to avoid him seeing me break down. Walking slowly over to the small sink that lay beneath the warbled panelled glass window, I ran the tap and hastily filled the basin with warm water. Adding a small amount of soap, I began to clean the few dishes left from dinner. It was unlike my mother to leave a mess, but I had a feeling she was hiding away from my increasingly drunken Father. Although I was very close to my mom, I also slightly resented the fact that she was so cowardly around the man she married. She would always fake a headache and run to her room, leaving me to deal with the mess of a man sitting in his recliner.

After drying the plates and cutlery and placing them in the slightly dusty cupboards, I walked past the recliner that my Father was now passed out in. The leather belt lay across the right arm, a harsh reminder to stay in line. His receding hairline was glistening with sweat, no doubt causing the odour of musk and alcohol to permeate the small room. His eyes, although closed, still felt as though they were watching me; he was always watching me.

Turning quickly, I crept up the creaky staircase as to try not to wake the monster resting beneath me. Reaching the safe haven of my tiny bedroom, I shut the door and turned the flimsy lock. 'You know that won't keep him out if he decides to punish you tonight.' My inner monologue whispered. Ever the stubborn one, I stayed in my little world of denial and brushed the comment off, and instead sauntered over to the small connecting bathroom to my left. Flicking on the overhead light, my eyes tried to adjust to the strong white beams coming from the ceiling.

The bathroom was dainty, but it also held a rustic charm that made me choose this room in the first place. It only held a small shower cubicle, a toilet and a countertop with an ornate basin, but I thought it was wonderful. The faded, patchy blue wall tiles decorated the walls and seemed to flicker and bounce like waves in the sea. The small mirror above the sink held childhood pictures of me and my mother, they were the only pictures I liked of our family; he was never in them.

Shaking myself from my nostalgic haze, I went over to the shower and turned the rusty tap, wincing as a powerful spray of freezing water hit my arm. Going back into my bedroom, I gathered my toiletries and a towel while I waited for the water to heat up.

Once it had, I locked the bathroom door and stripped out of my muddy clothing, turning and stepping into the hot water, I sighed with relief as the powerful spray massaged my tense muscles. Wiping my hands over my face, I leant forward into the water, allowing it to pour over my head and back.

I loved taking my time in the shower. It was my own, private space where I could sit and think, cry, laugh, sing if I wanted to. I could be away from menacing parents and confusing boys and just be.

With that thought, my mind wandered to more confusing territory. Suddenly I imagined a set of broad shoulders against my back, a pair of strong arms wrapping around my waist. A pair of full lips grazed at my neck, the thick stubble on his jaw rubbing my overly sensitive neck.

Gasping quietly, I opened my eyes and glanced around the cubicle. I was alone of course, but that didn't lessen the reality of the gentle hands running up and down my sides, beckoning me to give in to some unknown urge and play along with the fantasy forming in my head.

Why was I thinking about him now? Suddenly, I was overcome with a rush of pleasure, my head dropping back against the wall as a velvety voice whispered in my ear,

"Swan, you know you want me, give in."

Killian's voice was like an echo, soft, taunting and ultimately, in my head. Yet I found myself willing to this imaginary version of him.

I imagined what it would be like if he was really here. How his hands would pull me to him roughly, his eyes would burn with lust and obsession, and we would kiss passionately under the hot water. His hands would grab my body, getting more and more desperate the longer we kissed, and I would drag my fingers across his chiseled chest, down to a well-defined V-shape at the bottom of his torso and…

'No Emma, don't go there!' My inner bitch taunted, 'Once you think of him like this, you'll never stay away from him. Daddy will hurt him because you can't control yourself.'

Sighing, I reached up and turned off the water, stepping out and wrapping a soft white towel around my torso.

Switching off the bathroom light, I walked dejectedly into my bedroom, going over to the dresser to change, I tied up my soaking hair into a messy bun. Reaching into my underwear drawer, I pulled out a red and black pair of boy shorts, the only kind of underwear I wore. They weren't plain though, they were lace trimmed and had a triangle cut-out at each side where my hipbone would stick out. They were incredibly soft, and made me feel quite womanly, sexy even. I only wore these when I needed to cheer myself up, and losing out on a very hot fantasy and some 'alone' time made me very upset. I wasn't a whore, I had never even kissed a boy in my whole 17 years of life, but something about wearing forbidden panties that my father would shoot me for if he saw them was quite… exciting.

Dropping the small towel, I pulled the lacy panties up and over my legs, adjusting them until they settled nicely across my hips and let a little bit of cheek show. What? It's not like I'm doing it to please anyone, it makes me feel good, desirable.

I looked vaguely into the sagging, chipped draw, smiling mischievously to see that I still had the matching bra, but as I was going to bed I decided to leave it off. Instead I opted for a tight black kami with lace spaghetti straps.

Suddenly feeling very self-conscious, I looked around curiously, finding myself yet again drawn to the window. Looking over to a dimly lit room facing mine, I gasped as I saw a familiar smirking face looking back at me.

'Oh god!' I thought, as Killian Jones waved, taunting me with the fact that he had just practically had a strip tease from me. He saw me naked! I thought as I wrapped my arms around my chest, becoming increasingly uncomfortable and aroused at the same time.

Suddenly, Killian walked out of sight, behind a dark red curtain. Gazing curiously, I wondered why he had left without warning. However, it became clear when he waltzed back into view, a small handheld camera in his grasp. Smiling, he looked over and winked before waving my beloved camera at me.

Raising my eyebrow, I lifted my arms as if to say, 'what do you expect me to do?'. To that he chuckled, the hypnotic sound unfortunately too far away for me to hear, He walked slowly backwards, picking up a notepad and a marker.

I gulped, he was going to write me a message. What if he won't give me it back? I feel like that would be his perfect little way of annoying me for the next few months, taking away my only hobby.

Snapping out of my worried reverie, I glanced back up to find a smirking Killian holding up a sign.

'Log by the lake, tomorrow morning. 10 am, don't be late little Swan.'

Suddenly feeling both excited and apprehensive, I went to shake my head, try to tell him that I couldn't see him. It was too late however, as he simply waved again and blew a kiss in my direction before pulling the curtains closed and turning out his light.

Collapsing onto my bed, I closed my eyes and smirked at what tomorrow may bring. Sure, it was technically to return my camera, but I was pretty sure that the intoxicating man had just seen me in all my naked glory. Therefore, I was pretty excited to find out what morning would entail, even if it meant I would be in a lot of trouble.

Killian already had a hold of me, whether I wanted to admit it or not. So as I tossed and turned I fought against the pull of sleep, where I knew beckoning words and roaming hands would find me. However, as my small bedside clock ticked into the wee hours of the morning, I found myself lulled to sleep, the haunting emerald eyes smiling at me as he led me into a blissful land of pleasure and lust.

Oh how I love dreams.

 **AN: So guys, what'd you think? As you can tell chapters are gonna be a lot longer than what I usually write, however after a two year hiatus I think it's the least you all deserve right? Go ahead and leave a review, tell me any improvements, ideas or even what you had for dinner! I love talking to you! Much love, Elle xx**


	3. Chapter 2

****AN:**** **Hey guys! So this one is a little shorter than I expected, but it was necessary to end where I did. Trigger warnings to anyone for abuse and violence, but I've written in bold where that part starts and ends, so if you don't want to read then just skip that part. Thank you so much to everyone that reviewed, but I couldn't reply to all, so I'll reply here.**

 **The two guests who mentioned Killian's eye colour, I do know that his eyes are originally blue; However for the purposes of this story I chose green. This is for a reason and it will come out in future chapters. Sorry for any confusion!**

 **LilithTheSwanDemoness** **\- I did reply in private, but I also wanted to address to you all the situation so far. Killian and Emma are mere acquaintances so far. They share classes in high school and do not interact usually. It will become more evident in the future why this is, but for now they are just two kids who seem to like each other.**

 **B- I completely agree! I'm sure from this chapter that your opinion of Emma's father will not change!**

 **Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed! See you all at the bottom! Much love, Elle xx**

* * *

 **Chapter Two**

Opening my eyes slowly, I looked over to the large window across the room, silently cursing the loud chirping birds sitting in the cherry blossom tree.

'Well, Emma. They didn't know you were having the best dream of your life.' Mental me quipped, causing a crimson blush to settle across my cheeks.

I shook off thoughts of muscled torsos and green eyes and instead staggered over to the bathroom, brushing my teeth and brushing my severely tattered hair.

Looking over my features in the small mirror, I was overcome with a sudden wave of insecurity. How could I go and meet him looking like this? Plain Jane of the 21st century, that's me. But, even if I wasn't much to look at, the sparks between us the night before were still real.

Shrugging at the worrisome thoughts, I walked over to the closet and tried to find something decent to wear. Looking over the few options I had, I finally settled on a pair of trusty black jeans and a burgundy sleeveless blouse. What? It's summer! I have to dress comfortably.

'I'm not at all dressing in the nicest top I own for a boy.' I thought adamantly to myself, a sly grin on my face.

Glancing at the small alarm clock on my bedside table, I squealed in shock when I realised that I had slept in, it was 9:45! Rushing over to pick up my black chucks, I ran down the stairs only to grind to a halt at the sight of my father.

"Where are you going?" He asked calmly. His voice lowered only due to the immense hangover he was probably feeling at the minute.

"Oh, I left my camera by the lake last night Daddy, so I was just going to run over and grab it before it gets broken."

Studying my innocent expression suspiciously, my Father tutted and raised his brow. Gulping quietly, I silently asked the Gods above to do me one favour and let me pass, as I was in no mood to deal with this irrational beast.

"Fine, I want you back by 11AM sharp, we're eating brunch out on the porch with the Jones'. Nice couple, Harry's a real go getter." He chuckled, sending a wave of relief over me.

Smiling and nodding politely, I waved a quick goodbye over to my mother and raced out of the cabin. However, as I walked across the field to the woods, I thought about what this meant. Looks like our two families were going to meet after all; Killian's father Harry seemed to be getting along my Dad, so I suppose we were going to have to play nice in front of our parents. This seemed too calculated for Dad though, it was a perfect opportunity for his paranoid mind to run haywire, seeing Killian and I in the same room.

I knew I was going to have to figure out a way to control myself, we couldn't be sending electric sparks and tension filled glances across the room, someone would notice.

Frowning worriedly, I almost jumped out of my skin when I was interrupted by a smooth voice beside me.

"Out for a morning stroll are we lass?" Killian smiled, his long legs easily keeping up with my stride.

"No Killian, I need my camera back." I replied, turning to face him with my shoulders set.

He chuckled lowly, sending shivers down my spine. Glancing over his lean form, I was shocked to see that we seemed to match in attire, his crimson t-shirt and black denim jeans strikingly similar to mine.

"Well, sweet thing, I don't know about that, quite fond of the little camera I am." He smirked, clearly teasing me.

Reaching into his jacket pocket, he pulled out my camera, waving it in front of my face slowly; taunting me.

"Give it back, Jones." I said, jumping up and trying to grasp it from his hands. An impossible task, as he stood at least a foot over me height wise.

"Now now, eager are we?" He laughed, not even stretching his arm to its full span above me; jerk.

We stood at an impasse for a few moments, him smirking like the demon child he is, and I desperately trying to reach the summit of his mountain like structure whilst maintaining a shred of dignity. You guessed it: I failed on both accounts miserably.

Finally he chuckled, grasping my flailing arm with an amused sigh and practically dragging me towards the clearing.

"So, Swan, I've been thinking." He raised an eyebrow thoughtfully, "I feel that as the heroic knight that fought fearlessly to obtain your valuable possession, it is only fair that I receive some sort of reward in return for my valiant service."

Looking him over in genuine disbelief, I scoffed unashamedly, "Oh? So your little peeping Tom act wasn't enough?"

Regarding me carefully, with smouldering, fire-filled mazes of eyes, he smirked slowly. Stepping forward, nose to nose, I gulped as I thought of one to many times when my sass got me into trouble; it never ended well.

"No." Killian replied calmly. Abruptly stepping past me and walking ahead, he called to me:

"Besides, a girl with those type of panties clearly wants to be seen through an open window, even if she doesn't know it yet."

Huffing with exasperation, I hesitantly followed the kidnapper of my very life in physical form. After all, it's only logical to attempt to negotiate with a hostage...right?

* * *

"So our parents are having brunch in a couple hours." Killian remarked passively, with the wave of a particularly well kept hand and a smirk behind his words.

"Sure are, I have to be there to serve lemonade; it's polite apparently." I said, rolling my eyes as I gazed up at the break in the trees.

We lay on our backs in the clearing by the lake, our heads kept safe from moss and muck by Killian's biker jacket, a welcome addition to the woods, if you ask me.

"Screw polite," Killian scoffed, "Polite would be taking your kid somewhere with other living people every summer, rather than a wasteland with a lake."

I hummed in agreement, a wave of peaceful energy flowing over me, allowing me to lapse into a companionable silence with the unusually quiet man next to me. So much so, that before I knew it an hour or more had passed.

"Crap!" I squeaked, jumping to me feet when a loud shrill beeping sounded from the tiny watch at my wrist.

Killian started, leaning up onto his elbows and squinting at me in the morning glow.

"What the hell's got you so scared, little swan?"

"My Dad wants me home at 11 sharp or I'm dead meat!" I cry, hurriedly brushing debris from my clothes and hair.

"Well, you still have fifteen minutes, what's the big deal?" He asked, slowly rising from the once calm bubble on the floor.

"The big deal is he said 11AM sharp, which means sharp Killian!"

Stumbling onto the trail towards the cabin, I completely forget about the 'valuable possession' I came here for. Running quickly to my side, Killian pulls my to a halt and grabs my left hand, placing the camera softly in it.

"There's your precious metal eye Swan, remember my reward next time." He winked, before walking over to a nearby tree stump and setting himself down, without a care in the world.

I faltered, turning to face his alluring figure. "I don't have anything to give you, no money. Besides I'm gonna see you in an hour right?"

He smiled slowly, like a cat ready to jump onto an unsuspecting mouse. He reached carefully into his breast pocket, almost deliberately to make me wait for his response. Yearn for it. Raising a cigarette to his pouty lips, he nodded slowly in my direction as he lit the end.

"Oh, little swan, I don't want your money, but that doesn't mean you don't have anything to give."

I gulped, gripping my poor camera to the point of almost cracking. I turned to walk away, mindful of the time, but his next words caused me to almost trip over my feet.

"Besides, I'm aiming to collect at brunch. Your parents are gonna love me."

As I said before: Jerk.

* * *

"So, Emma. What are you planning on doing while you are at the lake?" Laurie Jones asked politely.

"Nothing much Mrs Jones, as you probably know, there isn't much activity around here." I laugh, trying to be talkative yet not rude whilst under the watchful eye of my increasingly angry Father and uncomfortable Mother.

The Jones' seemed a nice couple. Both with Dark wavy hair and brown eyes, they certainly bore the charming good looks I'd noticed in their son, apart from the shocking eyes that is. Speaking of, Killian was currently eating quietly in the chair to my right, seemingly unaware of the death glare he was receiving from my Dad.

Mrs. Jones laughed in agreement, turning away to ask my mother something about the omelettes we were eating.

"Swan, you ok?" Killian whispered.

His unusual green eyes flickered in my direction. Silently questioning the tension between my Dad and the rest of the group. I frowned slightly at his surprising level of perception, before nodding quickly in agreement and grabbing my glass off the table, drinking nervously.

"Em, do you want to stop chatting amongst yourselves and maybe tell us how you guys know each other?" A booming voice rang out across the patio.

My father sat tensed, eyes shifting accusingly between myself and the handsome boy beside me. Everyone paused, heads turning towards us in curiosity.

"I'm so sorry Mr. Swan." Killian apologised quickly, "I can't believe we forgot to say. We actually go to the same High School back home, we have English and Trig together."

Trig? I thought as I looked at him quickly, I had never noticed him in my trig class, not once.

Joseph sat back slightly, brows furrowed in an unknown and scary expression. Shocked that he was being rude in front of company, Mom jumped up quickly and began to refill everyone's glasses, remarking how much of a coincidence it was to all live in the same town yet to have never met officially.

Dad went on however, adamant in finding out something bad regarding Killian's mysterious character.

"So you take AP classes then boy?"

Killian nodded hesitantly, "Yes Sir, have done every semester since freshman year. I'm actually on track to graduating with a perfect GPA and a soccer scholarship." He added proudly, winking in my direction when no one was looking.

I looked over at my dad, growing more angry by the second. He was determined to hate this boy, yet it was obvious there was no logical reason to, so he stewed in silence, a large vein throbbing over his left eye.

After brunch, the parents all went to sit in the living room, something about this really great summer wine mum found at an outdoor market last week in town.

Killian somehow persuaded my parents to let us go hang out outside on the small porch swing, free to kill time in private.

"How do you manage to do that?" I ask hesitantly, looking over his sun kissed features and the faint brown freckles across his nose.

"Do what?" He stares back, reaching up to brush an escaping lock of hair from my forehead.

"Make people like you? I mean, make my dad go all quiet like that?"

He studies me carefully, eyes showing more than he would ever tell. The was a quiet moment where we both knew we were hiding something, causing the tension to rise and stifle the hot summer air.

"I just don't hide who I am Swan, I've got a feeling you like to hide behind that pretty blonde hair of yours far too often."

Blushing slightly, I lean my head against the back of the swing, bringing my knees up between us, curling around myself to shield me from his confusing and heated gaze. Killian chuckles, as if I've proved his point. Placing his hand on my cheek, he carefully brushes my hair behind my right shoulder, baring my neck to the afternoon sun.

The heat on my shoulder, or rather his hand, causes a slight shiver to run down the length of my curved spine, making me rise slightly, rocking the swing gently.

A dark look, almost hungry, passes across Killian's face fleetingly. Caught in some sort of trance, we both lean forward slowly, the tension and heat grasping us and moving us like puppets in a show.

"Emma." Killian whispers, velvet lips forming my name like a holy declaration.

"Yes?" I ask, a haze causing my brain to shut down and my heart to thump wildly in my chest. A tingling heat gathered in my lower torso, building rapidly and needing release.

A sudden creak on the porch causes our heads to snap up, unaware of the close proximity of our bodies. My father stands in the doorway, looking calculatingly between us.

"Em, I think it's time you get inside. You have chores." My dad barks, a look descending over his face that stole any happy feelings right from my chest. I was in big trouble.

"As for you Killian. Your folks are leaving, I suggest you follow them." He continued, spittle forming at the corner of his wine stained mouth.

Storming inside and slamming the mesh door, my father left us alone.

"Sorry, I best go." I said guiltily, jumping up onto my shaking feet.

Killian grabbed my arm, making me squeak in surprise. Spinning me around quickly, he pulled me into a tight embrace.

We stood together for a moment, silent in our interlocked arms. Words flowed unspoken between us as he comforted me, yet for what i wasn't sure; I just knew i needed it. Killian soon stepped back as his parents walked through the narrow entryway.

Politely saying goodbye, I watched them walk across the long dirt path to their own cabin, smiling shyly when Killian waved back, before too going inside and shutting their door.

Turning slowly, I recoiled at the sudden slap across my cheek.

"Get. Inside. Now." Dad hissed, before stalking into the living room, belt in hand.

* * *

 ***TRIGGER WARNING- IF YOU DONT WANT TO READ ABUSIVE TEXT (VIOLENCE, NEGLECT, MENTAL ABUSE ETC) PLEASE SKIP TO THE END OF THIS PART, THANK YOU***

Crying softly, I came to lying across my narrow bed, alone. Slowly, I inched my way up into a half sitting position, wincing every time I knocked a sensitive part on my body.

I lay there for a while, too scared to stand up in case the floor creaked and he came back. He didn't like it when I passed out, he said it was my body's way of cheating itself out of punishment.

After a while I stood slowly, hissing in pain. I walked as silently as I could over to the bathroom, noticing the dark haze outside my window. Flicking on the light quickly, I recoiled at the sight of my bruised face in the mirror. I quickly took a mental inventory of my injuries making sure nothing was broken. Last time dad beat me this hard, I limped about on a broken ankle for three days before he let Mom take me to the hospital.

Don't get me started on that though. It took Mom those three days to work up the courage to ask permission. She never looks me in the eye for a while after my 'punishments' instead opting to move around like a ghost, leaving meals at my door until I'm allowed to join them again.

Climbing into the shower, I let the slightly cold water cascade over my quickly -turning purple form. Closing my eyes as I press my forehead against the cool tile, I let the recent memories wash over me, shaking as I relive every hit.

"  
 _ **You little slut!" He hissed, snapping the belt down across my cheek. Usually he is more controlled, choosing to hit me where the bruises can be covered by my modest clothing. The beast is truly in control now however, a fact that sends my Mother scampering into their bedroom, shutting the door quietly; coward.**_

" _ **Dad! I haven't done anything!" I cry, knowing my feeble attempt at reason will go unnoticed as always.**_

 _ **Roaring in anger, he kicks me hard in the stomach, sending me crashing onto the dusty area rug. He seems to explode, like a malevolent force, he tears around the room like a tornado. Wave after wave of hits and belt lashes follow, before he grabs me by the hair and hauls me up the stairs into my room.**_

 _ **Throwing my sobbing form onto the bed, he climbs on top of me, slapping my face as he demands I repeat his sick words.**_

" _ **Say you're a whore! ADMIT IT!" He screams, a demented gleam in his eye and alcoholic spit spraying over my bleeding face.**_

 _ **I give in, choking on a surge of my own blood as I form the words.**_

 _ **He continues for a while, making me say the most awful and degrading things about myself, never satisfied that he has done enough.**_

 _ **The final slap I receive send my head spinning to the left, causing my world to darken as he whispers that I'm worthless and no one will ever love a slut like me.**_

 _ **The lullaby of insults and promises of hell is one I am not unused to, and is one that sends me quickly into the welcome blackness.**_

 ** _*TRIGGER WARNING OVER*_**

Shuddering in the now cold water, I come back to reality. Unsure of how long I've been standing in the shower, I step out, wrapping my fragile form in a large fluffy towel.

Walking over to my dresser, I notice a light shining into my room from across the street.

I quickly go over to investigate, but quickly recoil when I see it's a flashlight from Killian's room, his way of getting my attention.

Just as I grasp the blind to cover me from his gaze, we lock eyes. He looks shocked as he sees my split lip and bruised eyes, surely visible even from over there.

'I'm sorry' I mouth at him, before I shut the blinds tightly. Unsure of why I'm apologising, I change and climb into bed, lost in my thoughts. Ignoring the inner voice that tells me to go to him, to let him take me away, I instead listen to the more rational side that fears the pain my father would inflict on him and I when he found us. The message my father was sending is clear: I have to stay away from Killian Jones.

Little did I know, Killian wasn't about to let that happen.

* * *

 **AN: Sooo, that was a bit more intense I think! I hope you guys enjoyed the progression. I'm sorry if it's not quite as drawn out as expected, but I am trying to get used to writing about such a haunting issue, so please bear with me. Thank you so much again to all who read and reviewed, if we could get this chapter to 20 review that would be awesome!**

 **PS. What is your favourite TV show atm? I love finding new things to watch! I'm personally obsessed with Freaks and Geeks right now, but I'd love to hear what you guys are watching to bide the time for the next series of OUAT!**

 **Much love, Elle xx**


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